Wrong Place, Wrong Time
by lurkingwhump
Summary: It was supposed to be a nice evening at home, just the two of them. Post 4x12, Jeller
1. Chapter 1

So, I managed to write another fic. This was supposed to be just a short drabble for badthinghappenbingo, but it kind of exploded. The prompt is **Kick Them While They Are Down.** The whole idea took root from a talk with eblonde (glove you, my fellow whumper) when we lamented that it's always Kurt worrying over Jane and not vice versa. So, this little plot bunny surfaced. Timeline is s4 sometime after 4x12.

Indelible Evidence and Heather, thank you for being my sounding boards and beta.

Disclamer: Still just a fan, not making any money. All rights belong to Martin Gero & co.

* * *

**Wrong Place, Wrong Time **

**Chapter 1**

Kurt was walking down the street, and put his phone back in his pocket after typing a message. Lifting his eyes again, he suddenly saw a man blocking his way on the street. When he was about to sidestep the man and continue on his way, he felt the tip of a knife in his side and a strong grip on his shoulder.

"Give me your phone and your wallet!" The man gave him a forceful shove, making him back away from the street into the alley.

"Okay, okay. Take it easy." Kurt raised his hands in front of him disarmingly, sizing up the situation. There were four men. They looked to be in their late teens, and at least one of them was armed with a knife. They were gang members by the looks of it. If he'd have to guess he bet they had other weapons besides the knife. Two of them were now behind him and the others in front and to his side. They had the superior numbers and he was unarmed so he thought it best to just to give them what they wanted. Money could be replaced.

He handed over his phone, the thug quickly snatching it from him.

The one to Kurt's side shoved him slightly. "Wallet. Come on!"

"Hey! What's this?!" The ringleader in front of him asked and grabbed Kurt's metallic FBI badge from his belt as he was reaching inside his jacket.

The man peered at the badge closely, as he took Kurt's wallet and slipped it in his pocket. "This guy's a Fed!"

Kurt was about to reply when a blow landed on his back, the suddenness leaving him dazed for a moment and he stumbled.

Before he could recover, a punch connected with his stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

"Hold him. I'm not done with this guy," Kurt heard the leader say, and felt two men grab his arms in a vice grip. As he was starting to struggle against their hold, the next hit landed on his face, jarring his brain. Blood started dripping down, he could feel the warmth of it trailing down his face.

"This is like Christmas." The thug spoke with glee as Kurt groaned when the few following punches hit his ribs. "I've dreamed of getting my hands on a Fed."

Kurt gasped as the successive hooks landed in his solar plexus, leaving him trying to gasp for air amidst the pain.

"My brother is in prison for a bank robbery, thanks to your friends!"

He couldn't help a pained yelp, when the following punch hit his side again and he felt his ribs crack, even with the blood rushing in his ears. He faintly realized that the force was multiplied by the brass knuckles the man had slipped on at some point.

"Hurts, huh?" his attacker goaded him. "Good!"

The next blow to Kurt's stomach almost made him retch. The beating had gone on for what felt like hours to him. He couldn't even struggle anymore, slumping against the grip of the two thugs holding him. His whole existence seemed to consist of a red fog of agony surrounding him. Another wail escaped him as the fist connected with his abdomen. He felt like curling up into a ball but he couldn't, the younger men pulling him upright only to land another hit.

"Come on, leave him! There's cops somewhere around, I can hear sirens," the fourth, acting as lookout, said.

Kurt's captors released him and he collapsed on the ground.

"Get his ring, dude! We can sell that too."

Hearing that, Kurt made a fist and shielded his arm under him, trying to prevent them from taking his wedding ring. But it was no use, a vicious kick landed in his stomach and he rolled with the force of it. One of the thugs grabbed his arm and tried to pry his fingers open. When that failed, he stomped on Kurt's hand, causing him to cry out in pain and open his hand. There was no fight left in Kurt; he couldn't stop them from slipping his wedding ring off his finger. All he could feel was a pounding in his head and a searing agony in his stomach and sides.

Giving Kurt a final parting kick, they left him lying motionless in the dark alley, dropping his FBI badge next to him.

He couldn't move, every breath was like knives stabbing his lungs. He groaned weakly, and then everything went black.

* * *

Jane was pacing in front of the balcony door in their apartment, getting increasingly nervous. Kurt had left for the store a few blocks away a little over an hour ago, and now she couldn't reach him. She had tried to call him, but all she got was an automated message saying "the number you are trying to call is not reachable".

At first, she thought that maybe the store had long lines, as it sometimes did, but as time wore on, she grew more alarmed. She had tried calling and texting him. She kept telling herself that maybe the battery in his phone had died. She had even texted Reade in case he'd heard from Kurt, but Reade said he hadn't spoken to Weller since they had left work. Jane glanced at her phone to check the time; it was almost eight.

She decided she could no longer just wait at home. She had to do something. She'd walk to the store, see if she could spot him along the way. Decision made, Jane walked to the coat rack, putting on her jacket and taking her keys from the breakfast bar, shoving them in her pocket. She grabbed a post-it note, scribbling a quick note on it for Kurt to call her if he got home before her. Just as she was about to head to the door, there was a knock. _Kurt._

She opened the door, stunned to find two NYPD officers standing there.

"Jane Doe?"

She raised her eyebrow questioningly "Yes?"

"Are you the wife of Kurt Weller?"

Jane felt a chill running down her spine at the question. This could not be good. "I am. What is it?"

"Mrs. Weller, your husband was found badly beaten near Court Street. He's been taken to the ER."

* * *

Jane got out from the NYPD detectives' car and walked briskly to the hospital receptionist, gathering her resolve. She had no idea how badly Kurt was injured, but from what the officers told her it sounded serious.

The receptionist offered her a kind smile. "How can I help you?"

"My husband, Special Agent Kurt Weller, was brought in here about an hour ago. I'm his emergency contact." Jane spoke, showing her driver's license to the woman. "He was brought into the ER, I think. Is he still there, or have they transferred him somewhere?" Jane felt she was starting to ramble, but the anxiety and uncertainty were starting to creep in.

"Hold on, let me check…Yes, he was admitted to the ER, and according to this information he's currently in surgery. Walk to the elevator at the end of the hall and then take it to the 6th floor."

Jane flashed a quick, grateful smile at the receptionist. "Thank you."

* * *

Jane had spent the last hour alternately pacing up and down the waiting room and trying to push away the worst-case scenarios in her mind. She had no idea how badly Kurt was injured. What if he was so severely hurt that he had to quit the FBI? It would devastate him. What if he died on the operating table? What if, what if, what if…

She slumped down in a chair, feeling the tears in her eyes as she drew in a shuddering breath, trying to rein in the fear of losing her husband. They had gone through so much, only to have him taken away after everything, simply because some thugs had wanted money and Kurt had been at the wrong place at the wrong time. It was unfair.

Jane wasn't sure show much time had passed when a doctor in scrubs came through the door into the waiting room.

He looked around the room, at the few people sitting there besides Jane. "The family of Kurt Weller?"

At the mention of Kurt's name Jane snapped out of her trance and stood up quickly.

"Yes, I'm his wife," she addressed the man, whom she estimated to be around her age. "How is he?" She asked, afraid of the answer.

"I'm Dr. Kelsey. I'm the trauma surgeon treating your husband." He motioned to an adjacent room, asking Jane to sit so that they would have some privacy.

She knew he could probably see the anxiety on her face as she waited for him to speak.

"I'm not going to sugarcoat it, Mrs. Weller. He was very badly beaten and he's in a serious condition."

Jane felt her heart sink at the doctor's words.

"When he was brought into the ER, we determined that he had numerous broken ribs and a pneumothorax, as well as an injury to his left hand, along with some cuts and bruises consistent with an assault. An ultrasound also indicated he had a major bleed in his abdomen, so we prepared him for surgery and took him into the operating room for an emergency laparotomy."

Jane struggled to bite back the sob that threatened to escape. She closed her eyes for a moment, maintaining a tenuous grip on her composure. After a moment she nodded to have the doctor continue.

"We discovered the source of the bleeding to be a severe liver laceration that your husband suffered as a result of the blunt force trauma. We were able to stop the bleed and fix the laceration."

"Can I see him?" The look in Jane's eyes was pleading.

"He's in recovery right now, and if all goes well, he should be moved to the ICU in a couple of hours. You can see him then. We need to monitor him closely in case the bleeding starts again. The next couple of days will determine how things will go. A nurse will come and get you when he's in the ICU."

"Thank..thank you, Doctor."

* * *

The cup of coffee in Jane's hand had turned cold, and she grimaced in disgust at the bitterness of the liquid, opting to toss the cup in the trash. She wasn't drinking the coffee to stay awake or to keep warm. She simply needed something to do. Jane had updated the team on the situation, turning down their offers to join her. There was nothing they could do right now.

She glanced at the clock on the waiting room wall; close to midnight. Dr. Kelsey had stopped by well over an hour ago, but there was still no news of Kurt. Jane squeezed her eyes shut, her nails digging into her palms as she tried to banish the worst-case scenarios from her mind. What if he had started bleeding again? What if they can't stop it and he dies on the operating table?

What if she lost Kurt? Her heart shattered at the thought, and she felt a lump in her throat. Kurt had been with her through _everything_, with scarcely a protest or a word said in anger. From Roman's manipulation and death, to her reverting to Remi, and her almost dying of ZIP. Despite everything she had put him through, he had always been there for her, to support her and to carry her, both figuratively and literally. She realized she had almost taken him for granted, and the thought of losing him, the thought of a future without him, felt like a sledgehammer to her chest.

"Mrs. Weller?"

Jane was broken out of her dark thoughts by the name. "Yes."

"Hi. My name is Erin. I'm one of the nurses in the ICU."

Jane looked at the woman, somehow soothed by her kind smile and warm tone. She was maybe in her late 40s, wearing purple nurse's scrubs, and she had long, dark hair that was neatly braided.

She handed Jane a large Ziplock bag. "These are the personal effects that your husband had on him when he was brought into the ER."

Jane looked at the bag. It contained Kurt's home and car keys, and his FBI badge.

"His wedding ring is not here. Was it removed in the ER?"

"Those are all the personal effects he had on him when he was brought in. If he was wearing his wedding ring when he was brought in, it should be there. That's all I know, sorry."

"Okay. Thank you." Jane nodded solemnly. The NYPD said he had been robbed as well as beaten, so the robbers must have taken his ring too.

The other woman gave her a sympathetic smile. "I can take you to see him now, if you'd like."

"Yes. Please." Jane felt both relief and trepidation at the thought of seeing Kurt again. How badly was he hurt? She knew that he would not be in the ICU without a very good reason.

Erin led Jane through the doors of the ICU and to a small space that was lined off with a curtain. She moved the curtain and motioned for Jane to go inside as she followed.

That was the first time Jane had seen Kurt in almost 6 hours. She felt the lump rise in her throat again.

He looked incredibly pale, the medical equipment surrounding his bed making him look vulnerable, almost small. He had a large bruise forming on his cheek, and an inch-long nasty-looking red cut by his eyebrow. His left hand was bruised and somewhat swollen. Jane felt a pang in her chest as she realized his wedding ring was, indeed, gone.

As vivid as those injuries were, she knew the most serious ones were the ones she could not see. He had various wires snaking out from under his hospital gown, monitoring his heart and his vitals. He also had two drains, their tubes and containers resting on the bed next to him.

Jane released a shuddering breath. "Can I…Can I touch him?" She asked in a small voice.

Erin gave her a reassuring smile. "Of course you can," she spoke gently and pulled up a chair for Jane to sit in. "Here, take a seat. You'll be more comfortable. I'll give you some time alone with him. He was just brought in from recovery, so it might still be a couple of hours before he starts waking up, " she smiled kindly and took a step outside the curtain. "I'll be right there by the desk, if you have any questions or if you need anything."

"Thank you."

With that, she was gone, leaving Jane alone with Kurt in the cubicle.

Jane reached out, running her hand through his hair. "Oh, Kurt." Her mind flashed back to the last time she had sat beside him like this, with him gravely injured. She was consumed with shame and guilt. She had been Remi then, and Kurt had been her enemy. It had been an act, and she remembered thinking the only reason she wanted him to survive was because she needed to know where Shepherd was.

But now she couldn't imagine, didn't want to imagine, a life without him. Not after all they had endured, both separately and as a couple. The thought of losing him terrified her. It would be the cruelest twist of fate, if he died as a result of something so random.

She caressed his cheek gingerly, swallowing her tears. "What did they do to you?" She spoke in a trembling whisper, although she knew he probably wouldn't hear her. She thought of him, lying in that alley alone, in pain and bleeding. Had he been awake the whole time, but in such agony he could neither move nor cry for help? Or had he been unconscious, the cold from the ground seeping into his body from the outside as the shock from the internal injuries was taking hold from the inside.

It broke her heart to know that he had been in an alley not two blocks from their apartment. Try as she might, she couldn't keep the tears at bay any longer. She whimpered as she tried to suppress a sob, as the force of what had almost happened hit her. If it hadn't been for the luck of someone coming into that alley, and the kindness of strangers, he might have died today. And she knew there was a possibility he still might, if complications arose. She took his uninjured hand and gave it a light squeeze, taking care not to disturb the IV catheter.

"I need you to wake up, Kurt. I need to know you'll be okay."

* * *

Kurt slowly became aware of his surroundings. He was still too exhausted to do anything, so he lay there, trying to take stock of things. He had a faint recollection of waking up earlier and someone asking him something, but he didn't remember even answering them. The only thing he remembered was the sensation of the blood pressure cuff tightening on his arm regularly.

Right now, his head still felt fuzzy. His arms were like lead, as were his eyelids. It felt like everything hurt, especially his chest and his stomach. His mouth was as dry as the Sahara. Well, at least he wasn't intubated, he noted. But the taste…it tasted like he'd drunk iodine or some other disinfectant. His brow furrowed in pain as he tried to swallow, feeling like someone was running a piece of sandpaper down his throat.

"Kurt?" The question, spoken by the voice he would recognize anywhere, was tentative. He could hear the emotion in her tone, as the backs of her fingers stroked his forehead.

He fought to open his eyes, managing to open them enough to see Jane's concerned form hovering above him as she leaned in closer.

"Hey," she smiled at him tenderly, bringing her hand from his forehead to his cheek.

"Jane." His whisper was hoarse and it felt even the air hurt in his throat. He winced at the feeling.

"Shh…Lie still. You just got out of surgery a couple of hours ago." She sat down in the chair beside his bed, taking his hand. Even through the fog that was his mind right now, her touch tore through it, easing the anxiety prowling the edges of his consciousness. He didn't know why, but he felt somehow uneasy. He gripped her hand, her presence calming him.

"Water," he pleaded. He was terribly thirsty. He'd do anything for a drink of water.

Jane sighed, her thumb stroking the back of his hand. "You can't have anything to drink yet. I'm sorry. They don't want to risk you throwing up because of the anesthetic. But you can have some ice chips, if that helps?"

He mumbled an affirmation, closing his eyes in exhaustion as she spooned a bit of ice into his mouth, and it relieved the dryness and soreness in his throat as it melted. He fought to open his eyes again, but they were so heavy.

Jane caressed his arm, her soft whisper comforting in his ear. "Don't fight it, Kurt." She pressed a feather-light kiss on the cut by his eyebrow.

Too tired to speak, he squeezed her hand with as much strength as he could muster in his weakened condition. His breathing was quickening again, anxiety threatening to cocoon him in a black shroud. It was like her presence was the only thing keeping the darkness at bay.

Jane had noticed his distress. "It's okay," she soothed him, running her free hand through his hair. "I'm right here."

As she kept stroking his hair and murmuring gentle reassurances to him, his body relaxed, the lingering sedation slowly pulling him under again.

* * *

It had been a little over 36 hours since Kurt had been brought into the ICU. The doctors were still worried, as his lab results showed some elevated values and also his vitals were still somewhat unstable. He had been awake some brief moments but he was still heavily medicated, so what time he had spent awake wasn't exactly lucid.

He had been anxious, saying something as if he had been talking to his attackers, nearly tearing out some of the various wires and tubes attached to him if it hadn't been for Jane. She had been able to calm him down, by holding his hand and whispering soothingly to him, assuring him that he was in the hospital and that he was safe. She had barely left his side since she had been allowed in, wanting to be there if he needed her.

Jane jerked awake, her own exhaustion starting to win. She suppressed a wince, straightening in her chair. ICU chairs weren't the most comfortable, but she was grateful Erin and the other nurses had let her stay when they could have asked her to leave. She glanced at the monitor showing Kurt's vitals. He seemed to be stable for now. She trailed her hand up and down his arm slowly, the touch being as important to her as it probably was to him.

A couple of minutes later, Erin stepped into the cubicle from between the curtain. Jane realized that she must have just come back for another shift.

"Hi," she greeted Jane warmly, as she went to take Kurt's vitals and to check the different medical devices attached to him. "I heard you had a bit of a scare earlier."

Jane's voice was full of worry, as she gave the nurse a sad look, taking Kurt's hand in hers again. "Yeah. Kurt was in pain and anxious, so he almost tore off some of the equipment."

"Confusion is normal after surgery. Some people just react more strongly. But I know it must seem scary."

"I've just never seen him like this."

Erin touched Jane's shoulder briefly, the gesture feeling comforting to Jane. She smiled, noting something on Kurt's chart before turning to look at Jane again. "He's improving. His vitals have stabilized a bit.

Jane chanced a small smile at that tidbit of good information, but her smile was soon interrupted by a yawn.

"Mrs. Weller–,"

Jane shook her head, interrupting the nurse. "Jane, please. I can't deal with formalities right now."

Erin tilted her head, observing her for a moment before she went on. "Jane, when is the last time you ate?"

Jane had to wrack her brain for a moment to figure out the answer. "Yesterday, at lunch, I think. I stopped by the cafeteria to get a fruit cup."

The nurse sighed. "I can see you're almost dead on your feet. Why don't you go home, eat something and get some rest, before you get admitted into the hospital too."

Jane's headshake was almost vehement, emotion evident in her voice as she spoke. "I can't leave Kurt. What if something happens?"

The other woman knelt beside her chair. "Jane, if there is one place where Kurt is constantly monitored, it's here. We're never more than a few steps away. You're going to need some sleep before he's moved to a regular ward, because he will need you more when he's awake," Erin coaxed. "So, please go home to get some food and rest for a few hours. We'll call you if anything happens, I promise."

Jane gave a tired nod, knowing she was right. "Okay. But I'll be back in a few hours."

Erin smiled at that and got up. "That's perfectly fine. I'll get you the number to our nurses' desk so you can call us to let you in."

As she left, Jane turned her attention back to Kurt. He looked to be peacefully asleep, his face relaxed and free of pain. She reached out to stroke his hair gently. "I'm going to go home for a few hours, Kurt," she whispered to him. She leaned in, kissing his cheek softly. "You just rest, I'll be back soon."

With that, she cast one final look at him and left the cubicle.

* * *

Almost an hour later, Jane unlocked the apartment door. She gave a weary sigh as she threw her jacket onto the couch and dumped her keys on the breakfast bar. There was a note at the end of it that caught her attention. Picking it up, she recognized the handwriting.

_Janie,_

_I know it will probably be a couple of days before you even consider leaving the hospital, but you must be home if you're reading this. You're probably worried sick about the Grumpy Munchkin, and don't feel like eating, much less cooking. But you do need the food. For that, there's a dish of vegan lasagna in the fridge for you, made with the recipe I got from Patty. So please, eat and get some sleep to recover your strength. Someone has to keep an eye on your when Kurt can't (and he'd kill us if anything happened to you in his absence_.)

_Your faithful servant,_

_Rich"_

Jane smiled at the thoughtful gesture, although she wasn't completely sure how she felt about handing Rich a key to their apartment. Then again, knowing Rich, he'd have picked his way in anyway." As if anticipating her thoughts, he had added a P.S to the note.

"_Don't worry, I didn't go snooping around your apartment, Scout's honor. Pattycakes let me in and saw me out."_

Jane actually laughed aloud at that. Rich! He was something else. Smiling, she replaced the note on the table before going to the fridge to inspect the meal Rich had cooked for her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Wrong Place, Wrong Time **

**Chapter 2**

After three days in the ICU, the doctors had determined Kurt's condition had improved enough that he could be moved to a regular ward. He was stable, but still in a lot of pain and tired very easily. It was early evening, the last rays of the sun still peeking from beyond the horizon, bathing it in a red glow.

Jane was sitting in a chair beside his bed, watching him sleep. The NYPD detectives had visited them earlier to interview Kurt about the attack. He had described the events and the suspects as well as he could, ever the agent, but Jane felt his anxiety bubbling under the surface, especially when he described how his assailants had taken his wedding ring and then left him in the alley, essentially to die. She had interrupted the detectives and shooed them out, telling them to come back the next day, when she saw that Kurt was growing tired. Catching the perpetrators was important, but not at the cost of his health.

Kurt was rudely awakened by a stabbing sensation in his side. He opened his eyes, bringing his hand to his side, needing to feel if there was something actually stabbing him. He tried to draw a deep breath but couldn't, as all he felt was white pain that now felt like a stab and a slash, covering his entire chest and his side.

Jane noticed his distress and leaned close, her voice concerned. "What's wrong?"

He was almost panting now, the stabbing pain reducing his breathing to shallow breaths. He looked at her, the lack of air scaring him, as he grabbed the buzzer by his side and pressed it. "Can't….I can't breathe."

She squeezed his hand, her tone calming. "Hang on. The nurse will be here soon. It's okay."

It probably wasn't more than maybe a minute but it felt much longer to Kurt before an older nurse entered the room.

"What's the matter?" She asked Kurt in an understanding voice and smiled reassuringly.

"Side hurts…feels like I can't breathe."

She nodded, "Can you describe the pain? What kind of a pain is it?"

Kurt gasped as the pain flared when he breathed. "Stabbing. Sharp."

Jane caressed his hand softly, speaking up. "Can you give him something for the pain, please?"

The older woman looked at his chart, flipping through the pages, before turning to Kurt. "According to this, you've gotten all the medication the doctor prescribed for today." Placing his chart back in its place she patted his leg softly. "However, there's no sense keeping you in pain if we have medication to treat it. I'll contact the doctor on-call and ask her if we could give you something to make you feel better."

"Thank you."

Jane held his hand, coaxing him to keep breathing as they waited. The wait was agonizing, it felt like the pain was worsening with every breath he took, and that in turn made him increasingly anxious.

Kurt didn't know how much time had passed when the nurse returned, injecting something into his IV port.

"There you go. That should help ease the pain." She smiled, before turning to leave him and Jane alone once more.

He nodded gratefully, relaxing again as his breathing became easier. Jane traced her fingers up and down his arm, soothing him.

"Close your eyes," she whispered in a loving voice.

He murmured, doing as she asked, feeling the pain ebb as the drug started working.

* * *

A loud noise startled Kurt out of his sleep, almost sounding like a gunshot in his muddled mind. Without thinking, his training took over and he sat up, reaching for the table where he would normally keep his weapon. He was quickly brought back to the present day by tearing pain and he screamed.

"Kurt!"

He struggled against Jane's unexpected touch for a moment as she gently pushed him back against the pillow. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, gasping for air as colorful spots flashed inside his eyelids.

She leaned in close; he could feel her breath on his skin as she whispered to calm him. "It's okay. Just lie still…lie still."

Ten, maybe fifteen seconds passed as the worst sensation passed, and he opened his eyes again. Jane kissed his forehead. "I'm sorry I startled you. It was just the cup I knocked over onto the floor."

He gave her a weary look, the dull agony still gripping him. He closed his eyes again, a quiet moan escaping his lips.

"Do you need something for the pain?" She asked, her voice filled with worry and guilt.

"No, it's okay," Kurt murmured. The pain was constant, but not all-consuming.

Jane took his left hand, running her thumb over his knuckles. Her hand was warm, soft. Suddenly, he felt a cold sensation as she slipped something onto his finger and brought his hand to her lips.

His eyes shot open, and he gave her a questioning, hopeful look. He looked at his hand in hers, seeing his wedding ring back in its rightful place.

He saw the moisture in her eyes, and her voice trembled. "They found it. The NYPD detectives came by ten minutes ago." She gave a tiny smile. "They arrested one of the suspects, and by some miracle he still had it on him."

Kurt hadn't realized a tear had slipped down his cheek before she reached out to carefully wipe it away. How could a simple band on his finger make him so emotional? But deep down he knew, it wasn't the object itself, but rather what it symbolized. Them, their commitment to each other, through everything that they had lived through and what they would in the future.

Jane stroked his cheek, as he closed his eyes again, his energy drained. "Everything's going to be okay, Kurt."

* * *

The afternoon traffic crawled forward on the bridge. After almost two weeks in the hospital Kurt had finally been released to go home. He was still in a fair amount of pain due to his injuries, but the doctors had thought he could be released for home recovery with a prescription of painkillers, and strict instructions to rest and avoid overdoing things before his wounds had healed.

The cars ground to a halt once again. Jane glanced at Kurt on the passenger seat, reaching for his hand over the center console. She squeezed his hand and smiled at him.

"What?" Kurt asked, returning her smile.

"Nothing. I'm just happy to have you home, finally."

He murmured in agreement. "Not as happy as I am to get home. I want some real food after eating whatever the hospital calls food."

Jane couldn't help but shake her head at him. He had been pestering her for the last couple of days to bring him some "real food", but she didn't want to antagonize the nurses by sneaking in takeout for him.

"I know. Maybe we should ask Rich to cook. His vegan lasagna wasn't bad." She turned her attention back to the road as the car in front of them moved, but she still held his hand in hers.

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Rich? What do you mean?"

Jane told him of what Rich had done for her, still touched by his thoughtfulness. With the stress over Kurt, she hadn't given even a passing thought to food at that point. She would probably just have heated some frozen quinoa patties in the microwave and be done with it, if not for the lasagna.

Kurt gave an exasperated groan. "You mean he picked his way into our apartment? I swear to God, if he–"

She squeezed his hand to stop his tirade, and laughed. "Don't worry. Patterson let him in _and_ saw him out. So no, he didn't go through our drawers."

"Remind me to thank her."

The line of cars stopped once more, and Jane turned to look at Kurt again. "So, what do you want to eat tonight? No wine for a while though, but I can go get some groceries and cook, or we can order takeout. Take your pick."

He gave her one of those admiring looks that always made her melt, and his mouth turned up in a small smile "Hmmm…how about Chinese?"

* * *

Kurt was sitting on the couch in their living room, facing Jane. Takeout boxes and chopsticks lay on the coffee table in front of them. He couldn't turn his face away, gazing at her.

"Kurt, you're staring," she chuckled.

He reached out, moving a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I can't help it. You're mesmerizing."

She smiled at him, leaning in for a chaste kiss, careful not to lean too far and reawaken his injuries. "You're not too bad yourself."

Now it was his turn to smile. He was home again, with his wife, and no one would interrupt them as he was on sick leave for an undetermined time. He had just eaten his first decent meal in almost two weeks, and his pain was manageable thanks to the painkiller he'd taken.

"Come here," he patted the space right next to him.

Jane hesitated. "You sure? I don't want to hurt you."

"I just want to sit with you here and hold you. Come on," he coaxed, tugging at her shoulder.

She moved closer, cautiously curling against his good side.

They sat there in comfortable silence, just enjoying the moment.

They had sat like that for maybe ten minutes, when Kurt started to feel queasy. Something wasn't right.

He took his arm from around Jane, leaning forward with his forearms against his knees, and squeezed his eyes shut.

Jane touched his shoulder gently, her voice alarmed. "Kurt, what is it?"

"I don't feel so good." He swallowed a lump in his throat, trying to get some air, hoping the feeling would pass.

Moments later, he stumbled upright, ignoring the twinge of pain, and headed for the bathroom. "I think I might be sick."

Just as he got to the bathroom, the feeling peaked and Kurt heaved, losing what little he had eaten. He closed his eyes against the searing agony. His ribs were protesting the movement, but what made him fall to his knees, was the feeling in his abdomen. He grabbed the sink for support, squeezing it with a death grip. The white-hot pain, starting at the site of his surgery and spreading through his upper body, made him feel like something was eviscerating him. He wrapped his other arm around his middle, trying to control the stretching of his muscles, but it didn't help.

He faintly registered Jane calling his name, and then her light touch between his shoulder blades as she knelt next to him.

Feeling like he wouldn't throw up anymore, he collapsed onto the floor, almost in a fetal position as he wrapped his arms around his stomach, trying to catch a breath through the excruciating pain. He couldn't help the low groan that escaped.

"Shh," Jane soothed him, gently maneuvering his head to rest in her lap as her she kept running her hand up and down his back. "It's okay. Just breathe."

He wanted to. Instead, it was like someone turning a blowtorch in his abdomen. His breathing was shallow and his muscles tense as he tried to ride through another wave of agony. After he was able to breathe again, he loosened his grip around his middle but made no effort to move. He kept his eyes closed, focusing on Jane's touch.

"Kurt?"

"Oh God, it hurts." His voice was almost a croaky whisper, the stomach acids still burning a path in his throat.

After holding him for a couple of minutes, Jane got up and filled a glass with water, passing it to him, so he could rinse his mouth and take a sip. She flushed the toilet and took the glass back.

She extended her hand to him and leaned toward him to help. "Come on, let's get you to bed. You need to rest."

Kurt simply nodded, taking the offered hand, unable to hide the pain the movement caused as he stood. As he got up, Jane slipped her arm behind his back, offering some much-needed support as they slowly made their way to the bedroom: one of his arms around Jane, the other guarding his injured abdomen. He sat down on the bed, feeling exhausted and unable to move.

"Lie down," Jane told him softly, as she guided him by the shoulder onto the pillow. Even the slight tensing of his abs as he lay down felt excruciating. Letting out a low moan, he pressed his arms around his stomach, feeling a cold sweat on his face.

The bed dipped as she sat on the edge of it. "Let me see," she said quietly.

Feeling Jane's hand on his arm, Kurt let out a whimper. "No, don't!" He protested weakly, pressing his arm tighter against his abdomen.

"Kurt." Her tone was gentle as she leaned in closer. "I'm worried you tore something, since you're in so much pain," she explained. "I need to check." She pleaded with him softly. "I'll try to be as careful as I can. Please?" He felt her hand caress his forearm as she waited for his reply.

He nodded warily. He trusted her implicitly, but right now it felt like someone was tearing out his insides. He squeezed his eyes shut against it, tensing as Jane went to unbutton his shirt to inspect the wound. But her touch was light as she carefully lifted one taped side of the dressing.

Her tone was reassuring as she spoke again, replacing the dressing. "There's no bleeding that I can see."

"Something good," he grunted, trying to breathe through the pain.

Jane cupped his cheek, her eyes full of love, but he could see her worry, too.

She smiled sadly at him, as he leaned into her touch. "I wish there was more I could do. I hate seeing you in pain."

Kurt just wanted for the agony and the spinning in his head to stop. It seemed the ceiling was moving. He grasped her hand in desperation. "Stay."

As the gouging feeling continued and he groaned, she gave him a pillow to brace against his strained muscles and helped him turn to his side. He brought his knees up slightly, hoping to ease the tearing sensation.

She stroked his hair, sitting beside him as her touch slowly relaxed him. "It's okay. I'm right here."

* * *

Kurt had vomited almost the entire first evening and night at home. Jane had been beside herself with worry, as he was in agony and couldn't keep even water or the painkillers down. She'd tried to convince him to go to the ER, but he had refused, telling her it would pass. Sometime during the night he had finally fallen into an uneasy sleep as his body exhausted itself.

In the morning Jane had contacted a number she could call during office hours in case any complications arose. The doctor had asked her what felt like an unending list of questions, and gone to consult his colleagues before calling Jane back. The doctor's suspicion was that the nausea and vomiting were caused by a bad reaction to the painkillers Kurt had been prescribed when he was discharged. It was a new drug for him, so his body wasn't used to it.

The doctor had changed the prescription, telling Jane to contact him if Kurt's symptoms still persisted. Luckily, it seemed that changing the drug had worked. She had given him one of the new painkillers when the pain woke him up again, and he had managed to keep it down.

It was the afternoon, and Kurt was asleep. He was still wearing his clothes, sleeping in an almost sitting position, two large pillows propped behind him as the third, smaller one he had held to his abdomen had slipped out of his grasp and onto the floor. Jane was sitting in a comfy chair beside the bed, reading a book as she watched over him. The pain and the nausea had made him restless, so she couldn't bear to leave him, even though he seemed to be resting peacefully right now.

She put her book down as she noticed him stirring.

"Kurt?"

He mumbled something unintelligible, still half asleep.

Jane smiled at his reaction and reached out, stroking his stubbled cheek. She felt like she needed to touch him, the gesture reassuring her as much as it did him. Almost as if to convince herself that he was home safely.

After a few seconds Kurt opened his eyes, blinking a few times as if to get his bearings.

"How do you feel?" Jane asked in a whisper. "Are you in pain?"

He shook his head slightly, his voice coming out as a raspy "No. Not right now, anyway."

"That's good." She gave him a tentative smile.

"Just tired," he sighed.

"That's to be expected. You had a rough night."

Sitting up with a grunt, Kurt glanced out the window as he reached for a glass of water at the bedside table. After draining the glass, he spoke. "What time is it?"

"It's almost two." Knowing it had been almost a day since he had eaten anything, she went on. "Do you think your stomach could handle some soup, if I heat some from the freezer? That vomiting probably left you dehydrated. And you should try to eat something before you take the next meds."

He was quiet for a moment, before nodding. "I can try. I do feel a bit hungry."

Jane couldn't help but grin at the reply. He was definitely improving if he was hungry. She got up and gave him a kiss. "Alright. You wait here, and I'll bring it to you in a few minutes."

* * *

It had been almost a month since the attack, and they were walking slowly along a footpath in the park, listening to the birds chirping in the trees as they leaned on each other. Kurt still wasn't a hundred percent, far from it. He was leaning slightly against Jane for support, with her arm wrapped around his back. But, at least he was out of the apartment. Not counting doctor visits and short trips to the store, it was the first time he had ventured outside for a longer period.

He pulled her closer. "It feels great to be outside."

She gazed at him with a small smile on her lips before speaking. He heard the concern in her voice "I'm glad you're feeling better, but I still worry. The doctor told you to take it slow."

Kurt kissed her hair, chuckling slightly. "Why do I feel like we've had this conversation before, hmm?" But, just as fast he grew serious again. "I know you're worried. I'm sorry."

Jane shook her head, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Don't be."

He nuzzled her hair. "Sometimes I still can't believe how lucky I am. I love you."

"I love you too, Kurt."

He kissed her again. "So, how about lunch? All this walking is making me hungry."


End file.
